


Charcoal Devotion

by HedonistInk



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Artist Jean Kirstein, Getting Together, Jean Kirstein Has Issues, JeanMarco Gift Exchange, JeanMarco Gift Exchange 2020, M/M, Meet-Cute, POV Alternating, Pre-Med Marco Bott
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 01:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28663116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HedonistInk/pseuds/HedonistInk
Summary: As Marco stresses about his life choices and the MCAT looming ahead of him, an unexpected request from an artsy stranger at the campus counselling office might just turn out to be the best chance meeting of his young life.
Relationships: Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33
Collections: JeanMarco Gift Exchange 2020





	Charcoal Devotion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kareyllma](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kareyllma/gifts).



> Happy JeanMarco Gift Exchange, Kareyllma! I hope this satisfies your wish for College AU with art student!Jean and pre-med student!Marco, with a heaping helping of pining on top! I'll be honest, my initial outline for this piece put my estimate at around 2k, but here we are at almost 6k words instead. _Whoops._ This was a really fun piece to write and I hope you enjoy it!

“Um… Excuse me? Marco Bodt, I’ve got a five o’clock appointment?” Marco offered to the receptionist, clinging to the strap of his messenger bag as he tried his best not to wring at the strip of fabric in his hands. 

He really hoped this counselor could do something for his anxiety, even just to set his mind at-ease that he was doing the right thing, following the right path. 

The woman gave him a curious look before offering a small smile and a nod. Acrylic nails clacked loudly against plastic keys in the small room. “Mm… You’re a bit early so it’ll be a little wait, is that alright?” 

Marco glanced at the clock. It was barely four thirty. “O-oh. Right, yeah, of course, that’s no problem,” he assured. 

The woman nodded. “I’ll get you checked in. Go ahead and have a seat.” 

Marco nodded, stepping away to find himself a seat. He let out a soft breath as he settled into one of the empty seats in the small waiting room, tugging one of his textbooks out. 

Might as well get some studying done. 

Minutes ticked by as Marco forced himself to keep his focus on the book in his lap, trying to keep himself from getting distracted looking around the room. He didn’t want to risk invading anyone else’s privacy as they waited. 

Not that there was much of anyone’s privacy to invade, except for the receptionist and the blonde guy sitting across and to Marco’s left who seemed to be scribbling at something in a book. Probably another undergrad student like him. He didn’t look old enough to be a grad student. 

The blonde looked up and Marco hurried to force his eyes down to his book again quickly. 

“Hey…” 

_ Crap. _ It was the blonde guy. 

Marco looked up, brows tilting curiously. “Mmh?” 

“Uh… well… I heard her say you’re early. And my person is running late. So… since we’re both gonna be waiting here for a bit… You mind if I use you for my homework?” 

Marco blinked, sure his confusion could be read even across the room. “What do you mean  _ ‘use’ _ , exactly?” he asked. 

Blonde guy had stopped scribbling and was gnawing at the back of his pencil. “Oh. Uh… I need somebody who’s not gonna get weird about me staring at them for like twenty minutes while I draw and like… you sit so still, you’re kinda perfect?” 

‘Kinda perfect’? Marco found himself hoping that the sterile fluorescent lighting would wash out the flush of heat blooming across his cheeks. 

“Oh… Uh…” Marco scratched at his temple, fidgeting slightly. 

“I— If not, it’s totally cool?” the stranger hurried to assure him. 

“N-no, yeah, it’s fine. It’s totally fine?” Marco nodded with a small laugh. “I just wasn’t expecting the question.” 

The stranger offered a lopsided grin in reply. “Brill, if you’d said no, it would’ve made my last five minutes of sketching totally awkward.” 

“Brill?” Marco asked.

“Oh. Uh… Brilliant? I… dunno why I shorten it. Just do, I guess.”

Marco blinked before laughing again. “Oh. So you mean I’m what you’ve been scribbling?” 

The stranger shrugged sheepishly. “Guilty as charged.” 

Incredible. The guy was so nonchalant. “So you just need me to…?” 

“Just keep doing what you’re doing. The studious thing is totally perfect,” the stranger assured. 

Well… alright then. 

Marco turned his attention back to his book, trying to mentally digest his way through the heavy text scrawled across the page. 

Honestly, it should have been illegal for words to swim across the page like that. Still, he chugged along. 

“Bodt?” a new male voice snapped Marco out of his studying daze. 

“What? Oh. Here. That’s me,” Marco offered, closing his book with a soft  _ thwump _ and hurrying to jam it back into his bag as he stood. 

“H-hey! Wait a sec.” A scramble of activity brought his attention back to the blonde who was hurrying to scribble something on a corner of a page, tearing it off and offering it out to Marco. “Here. Message me later and I’ll give you a copy of the sketches, if you want? It uh… my Insta’s on there and my number? So…” 

“O-oh… Right, sure. It was nice meeting you um…” Marco looked down at the paper, “Jean?” 

“Actually it’s  _ J— _ ” The blonde’s eyes widened as he faltered. “Wait, you actually said it  _ right? _ ” 

Marco blinked before laughing. “I mean… it’s like Jean Valjean, right?” 

Jean offered a small laugh, scratching at the back of his head. “Yeah. Exactly. I uh— you should probably—” he gestured towards the open office door and the waiting woman. 

“R-right, yeah,” Marco nodded. “Nice meeting you, Jean.” 

“You to, uh…” 

“Oh. Uh… Marco. Marco Bodt.” 

Jean grinned. “Nice meeting you, Marco. Good luck.” 

Marco offered an awkward thanks, trying to gauge out the right amount of time to keep looking at Jean before he finally turned, following the woman into the office with a small apology. 

###

All in all, Jean wasn’t sure what he thought of the counselor, but the fact that she was willing to listen to him vent for forty minutes was the closest thing to a miracle that Jean had encountered since his old therapist had retired during his senior year of high school. Introductions aside, he let himself spend the entire session on the one thing that was  _ really _ bothering him. 

Jean vented about how he wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to be an artist, except that he really was sure that he did. Ranted about the fact that art was the only thing he really liked doing. Mused about how he wasn’t sure if that was really a good enough reason to not go for a more stable major. Debated about whether he was maybe making a mistake like his parents thought he was. Contemplated about how his professors said he had potential with it but he wasn’t sure if they were biased or not. Whined about how he wasn’t sure if he was just overthinking the whole thing, start to finish. She just… listened. 

She ended up offering to help him figure out how to plan and schedule his time better, in addition to reaching out to Jean’s doctor about adjusting his ADD meds to see if they couldn’t do something about his seemingly increasing inability to keep track of his workload. It felt like progress. It felt like a step in a positive direction. 

And  _ god _ the guy in the waiting room had been really cute. 

_ Marco. _

Alright, granted, the guy was almost definitely straight—Jean had a terrible habit of falling  _ exclusively _ for straight guys, after all—but there was no harm in a little bit of visual appreciation, right? No matter how much Eren would definitely make fun of him later for his majorly malfunctioning queer radar. 

Besides… It was barely even a fifty-fifty shot as to whether the guy would even bother to message him. 

Getting back to his dorm, Jean flopped face first into his pillows without checking his phone, unaware that the little camera-like logo beside a new follower message and the little envelope signalling a text message both already lurked unread in his notifications. 

###

It didn’t take long for Marco to consider Jean a friend. He was funny and quick-witted, and smarter than he gave himself credit for. Jean was… a nice person to be around. 

Soon enough, they were regularly spending time together as Marco studied for his classes and the MCAT looming in the distance. Marco was sure that he would be a boring companion, at first. Who wanted to hang out with someone who was just going to sit there and stare at a book? But Jean had insisted in return that he didn’t mind, that he just wanted someone who would sit with him while he sketched and keep him from getting distracted. Jean certainly seemed content enough with that arrangement and Marco had decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

It turned out to be a blessing, for the fact that Jean kept Marco focused in return, keeping him from feeling like he was missing out purely by virtue of his company. Before long, they were spending time in the library or at the coffee shop just off-campus as well. Jean’s presence was comforting, and Marco found he liked being able to glance over and see what Jean was working on, especially when he sketched out strangers with lightning-quick movements across the page. 

Jean’s text messages back and forth with him were the highlight of Marco’s inbox, even when they veered into stranger topics. Marco didn’t think he would soon forget the time Jean messaged him at nine in the evening, wondering if he should be concerned about having accidentally drank a sip of his paintbrush water. Jean was fine, of course, but that day would live in infamy as ‘the forbidden Nesquik’ incident. 

It wasn’t that Marco was  _ lonely  _ before, he had plenty of friends who were happy to hang out with him, whenever he could make the time. 

But Jean was a welcome change in that Marco didn’t have to  _ make _ the time for him. Jean was happy to take what Marco could give him and Marco was happy to give him what he could. 

It was… nice. 

###

Okay. 

Jean couldn’t sit still anymore. He  _ needed _ to get out of the library’s computer lab and stretch his legs. He was going to go  _ nuts _ just sitting there and staring at the same half-thought-out sketches for this long. 

Saving his work, he shut down the workstation and headed back upstairs, away from the dull hum of technology. Maybe Marco was still around and Jean could bother him. 

Jean wasn’t sure if he was pleased or disappointed when Marco turned out to still be  _ exactly _ where Jean had last seen him nearly two hours earlier. Maybe  _ concerned _ was more apt, since it looked like Marco had barely even  _ moved _ in that time. Marco was working himself to the bone between classes and studying for that damned test. Jean had to admire his dedication, but it just didn’t seem…  _ healthy _ . 

Jean flopped into a seat opposite his friend. 

Friend.

Was it normal for a ‘friend’ to want to reach out and brush those shaggy bangs away from Marco’s eyes? No, definitely not. For a crush, sure. But Jean had promised himself that he wouldn’t let his feelings get that far. Besides, in over a month of their friendship, Jean had never heard Marco talk about  _ anyone _ he was interested in. For all Jean knew, the guy was ace or something. 

“Hey uh… Mar? D’you wanna get some coffee?”

In any other world, that would sound like a date invitation.

Marco’s silent repetition of the words on the page stopped abruptly as he startled, looking up at Jean. “O-oh… Uh… I’d love some coffee? If you wouldn’t mind?”

Jean blinked before sighing as he stood, shaking his head fondly at the reminder that this  _ wasn’t _ “any other world”. No, in  _ this _ world, he could practically ask Marco if he could curl up on the man’s lap while he studied and Marco wouldn’t bat an eyelash. 

For such a smart guy, Jean couldn’t help thinking that Marco could be really fucking oblivious sometimes. 

“You got it. One coffee, coming right up,” he confirmed. 

“O-oh, can you get it with—” 

“Two creams, three sugars, right?” Jean offered. “I can do that.” 

Marco’s face melted into a warm smile. “You are a saint.” 

Jean grinned. “You know, you’d think so, right? I think they lost my sainthood certificate in the mail or something.” He winked, impulsively reaching out to ruffle Marco’s hair before very quickly walking away towards the exit of the library closest to the coffee stand.

Sure, Marco was oblivious, but Jean needed to be more careful about keeping a lid on his growing crush. He didn’t want to make things weird between them. Besides… Marco had more important things to worry about right now, like his test. Jean wasn’t going to get in the way of that. 

###

This damn MCAT was going to be the death of him, Marco was sure. He didn’t think he could cram any more formulas into his head, at this point, and he still had his other classes to study and do assignments for. Thank god, he hadn’t put anything  _ actually _ stressful into his calendar for this semester, or else he would be hopeless. 

“Okay, get up,” Jean’s voice cut through Marco’s thoughts, a hand suddenly ruffling at his hair. 

“What?” Marco asked, looking up from his book as he shook his hair back out of his eyes. He needed a haircut. 

“You’ve been sitting in that chair for at  _ least _ three hours,” Jean explained. “I saw you when I came down to go to class, and you’re still here. You haven’t even moved.” 

“I— I could have moved!” Marco insisted before faltering, scratching at the side of his face. “…Okay. I might have not moved. I’m just… stuck on this chapter. I just can’t keep it in my head.”

“You need a change of pace,” Jean stated. “And maybe some lunch. It’s two o’clock and I’d bet you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast. Am I right?” 

Marco’s guilty silence spoke for him. 

“Mhmm. That’s what I thought. Come on, let’s go get you fed. Chop, chop.” 

Marco had already learned that a determined Jean was not to be dissuaded. Well… some lunch might not be the worst idea anyway. Stretching as he stood, Marco let out a long groan. 

“Okay, okay. Give me five minutes to put my books in my room and I’ll meet you back here?” Marco suggested. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Waiting for their turn at the cafeteria cashier, Marco’s eyes fell to the poster for the party the student union was organizing. A halloween party. He couldn’t help but wonder if Jean was planning on going. Jean always seemed more looped-in to campus events than he was. Marco couldn’t even remember the last time he’d gone to an on-campus event. Jean was probably going… Maybe even going  _ with  _ someone. In another world, that someone might even have been him. 

“—rco, are you listening?” 

Shit. What had Jean been talking about? 

“Oh… sorry. I think I zoned out for a minute.”

“Is your blood sugar crashing or something?” Jean asked, frowning at him. “Maybe it’s good I’m dragging you to lunch.” 

Marco forced a laugh. “Must be, yeah. Food should help.” 

Marco shook his head to himself, forcing the thought of  _ dances _ and  _ parties _ away. As if Jean would want to go with him to something like that as anything other than a friend. 

Jean had been a great friend, an above-and-beyond friend, ever since they’d met, but he was just that, a friend. Sure, Marco knew Jean was bi, but in no way was Jean going to be interested in someone like  _ him _ . He’d seen who caught Jean’s eye when they were out at the library or coffee shop, the kind of stranger that Jean preserved with hurried swipes of charcoal across the pages of his book. Marco wasn’t Jean’s type, that was for sure. 

That was okay. Really. Jean had quickly become one of Marco’s nearest and dearest friends. And that was just fine. He wasn’t going to risk messing that up. 

Besides… Marco had a test to study for. 

###

Fuck. 

Shit fuck. 

_ Fuck. _

Jean scrambled through the pile of papers on the side of his desk to dig out the syllabus. 

No, there was no mistaking it, that project was due in just about twelve  _ hours _ , not  _ next _ Friday like he had thought. 

Jean glanced over at the half-done painting, tugging at his hair in frustration. What was he going to  _ do? _

He needed help. He needed someone who could help him get his head on straight. 

Eren? 

No, Eren had a test in the morning. 

Connie? Fat chance. By this time of night, he was probably too baked to carry on a logical conversation. 

Sasha? Nah, she’d be with Connie. 

Marco? 

_ Marco _ . 

Marco had told him yesterday that his professor had cancelled the Friday session of their class this week. 

Jean’s phone was already in-hand and speed-dialing Marco’s number by the time he stopped to think about what he would do if Marco actually had plans that  _ didn’t _ include staying up all night helping his procrastinating artist friend not fail a class. 

“Mngh… Hello?” Marco groaned, the hoarseness of sleep clinging to his timbre. 

“Shit, did I wake you? …Stupid question. Um… Look, I’m sorry for waking you up, but I fucked myself  _ hard _ .” 

A quiet pause followed. “Um…” 

“What? I—” As Jean realized belatedly exactly  _ how _ he’d said what he’d said, a strangled squeak escaped his throat. “ _ Ngh! _ Shit. No, that’s not… I mean… I didn’t mean it like— _ Breathe, Jean _ —Okay. Look. I fucked up the dates on a canvas I have due and now I have twelve hours to do two weeks worth of work and… I’m freaking out and I really need your help.” 

Within five minutes, Marco was sitting cross-legged on Jean’s bed, watching him wear a hole in the throw carpet with his pacing. 

“Okay, look… your issue is the paint takes too long to dry, right?” Marco asked, summing up the situation  _ far _ too simply for Jean’s panicking brain. 

“I— Well— Yeah, basically?” 

Marco hummed, nodding. “So what if we make the paint dry faster?” 

“Make the p— Marco don’t be ridiculous, how are we going to make  _ paint _ dry  _ faster? _ It’s  _ paint _ . It just… does what it does.” 

If there was one thing Marco Bodt was good at, aside from memorizing all the fancy science future-doctor shit, it was leveling Jean with a look that was simultaneously good-natured, warm, and somehow pitying and condolatory in a way that amazingly  _ didn’t  _ feel condescending. It just… made him feel like a small child that didn’t  _ quite  _ know how anything  _ worked _ , but that it was okay because Marco was about to explain it in nice, small words. 

“I’ll be right back.” Marco stood, leaving Jean’s room and heading out into the common area. 

Unsure what to do with himself, Jean just stayed put, feeling like a lost dog as he stared at the doorway Marco had disappeared through. 

A few minutes later, Marco returned, holding a tangle of wire and a small appliance in his hand. 

A hair dryer. 

“Mikasa says to just drop this off back with her in the morning,” Marco offered. “She doesn’t need to get ready until noon.” 

“I— Oh.  _ Oh. _ Shit, Marco, I could  _ kiss _ you right now,” Jean laughed, eyes going wide briefly as he realized what he had said before forcing himself to laugh it off. It was just a typical friendly platonic exaggeration. “You’re fucking  _ brill _ .” 

In the warm light of Jean’s dorm, it almost looked like Marco was blushing. 

“Y-yeah, whatever, just get to mixing the colours you need or whatever it is you do,” Marco insisted with a shy laugh. “You put down a layer, and I’ll work on helping it dry while you mix whatever you need for the next layer. Okay? You can praise me after you get this assignment turned in on time.” 

“Right. Yeah. Got it.” 

If Jean got through this night and passed on this assignment, he  _ really _ owed Marco one. 

###

Marco groaned as he rolled out of bed, shutting off his alarm as  **5:30 AM** angrily flashed at him in small, red letters from his alarm clock. It was morning, it was test day, and somehow he managed to feel as ready as he was going to get and yet not ready at all. 

Jean had been essential over the last few weeks, helping him to study whenever he could and keeping him company when he had his own work to do by letting Marco study by his side. They spent time in Jean’s dorm room, in the computer lab, in the library, in coffee shops, in the dorm lobbies, wherever worked at the time. Hell, Jean hadn’t even hesitated to jump onto Skype during winter break to help quiz Marco with the question-and-answer quiz sheets Marco had put together. 

Marco  _ knew  _ he was as well-prepared as he was going to get. 

Fuck, he was  _ tired _ . 

Coffee. 

The Keurig in the lobby was practically calling his name with its caffeinated siren song. The student cafeteria wouldn’t open until seven, too late for Marco to get himself anything  _ solid _ for breakfast, but if he managed to get out on time, he could probably stop by the 7-11 just off campus on his way to the test site. 

The drawer Marco had been rummaging through for a shirt closed with a hard  _ thwump _ and he flinched, half-asleep brain skittering into overdrive. Casting an apologetic glance to his still-sleeping roommate, Marco shook his head as he grabbed the last of his clothes and headed for the shower. That guy could sleep through an entire brass orchestra, yet somehow still woke up to his own alarm clock within minutes, and it never ceased to amaze Marco. 

Fifteen minutes and one very cold shower later, Marco heard the soft  _ ting _ of his phone as he toweled at his hair, casting it a confused glance. Who was texting him at this time of the morning? 

From: Jean K   
‘U up?’   
Sent: 5:55am

Jean? Marco frowned down at his screen.

From: Me   
‘Yeah, getting ready. Why are you awake?’   
Sent: 5:56am

A few minutes passed as Marco got himself dressed before another  _ ting _ announced a reply. 

From: Jean K   
‘Cool. When do u leave?’   
Sent: 6:02am

Marco frowned down at his phone. 

From: Me   
‘That’s not an answer. Have to leave by 7. Maybe earlier. Gonna try for 7-11 on the way. Why?’   
Sent: 6:04am

The next soft  _ ting _ came as Marco scrubbed the staleness of morning breath out of his mouth. 

From: Jean K   
‘Brill. Meet me downstairs when you’re ready?’   
Sent: 6:07am

“Always the enigma, Jean…” Marco muttered to himself under his breath, shaking his head fondly as he gathered up his keys, phone, and bag, confirming that he had his test registration slip for the umpteenth time. 

Heading for the elevator, he tried not to focus too hard on the hearts and streamers plastered around the elevator doors, or the printed out poster by the elevator buttons reminding students about the upcoming Valentine’s day party-slash-dance organized by the student union. 

He couldn’t help but think it would be nice to have someone to go with to something like that. Especially once this test was over and he could actually think about having something resembling a social life again. Maybe he could even think about starting to go to Ymir’s parties again. 

Maybe he could go with Jean. 

Marco shook himself out of the thought as the elevator dinged quietly. Jean was just a friend. Nothing more than that. 

But maybe… Jean was the kind of friend who Marco could at least entrust with a confession without making it weird? 

Maybe. 

From: Me   
‘Heading down now. Meet me by the coffee? Need caffeine.’   
Sent: 6:15am

By the time he made it down the elevator, Jean was already standing by, offering out a cup of coffee in Marco’s direction. 

“Two creams, three sugars,” Jean supplied as he handed over the cup before lifting a white paper bag into Marco’s vision. “Figured I’d get you started. And hot breakfast from Rose Deli.” 

Marco blinked, staring at Jean as his brain tried to process. “Wh— You… you brought me breakfast?” 

Jean offered a sheepish laugh. “Yeah, well uh… I wasn’t sure what you like but Google said protein is good to eat before a test so… I figured a bacon, egg, and cheese would be good? B-but um, there’s an oatmeal in there too, if you don’t want that. And a fruit salad thing that’s got melon and strawberries and stuff in it… O-oh, and an orange juice.” 

“I… I don’t know what to say?” Marco laughed, fidgeting with the cup. “This is really nice of you. I… thank you?” 

“Is it too much? It’s too much, isn’t it,” Jean cringed. “I just… wanted to give you a good start. I know how much you’ve been stressing about today.” 

It wasn’t just thoughtful, it was  _ sweet. _ Jean had woken up  _ hours _ early and gone  _ off-campus _ to get Marco breakfast, just because he was being  _ nice _ . Marco didn’t have words. 

“W-well, don’t just stand there. Come eat, it’s already almost twenty-after,” Jean insisted, urging Marco over to one of the lobby tables. 

The pair ate in comfortable silence as Marco read through some of his review materials, with Jean having gotten himself a matching sandwich to the one he had gotten for his friend. 

Soon enough, the seven o’clock alarm Marco had set for himself went off, spiking Marco’s nerves back into overdrive. 

“Hey, um… Jean?” 

“Mm? Yeah?” Jean asked, looking up from whatever he was sketching. 

Marco hesitated. “This is gonna sound weird but… could you… um… walk me to my car?” 

Jean blinked before nodding, closing his book and shoving it back into his bag. “Yeah. Of course.” 

The walk felt simultaneously like the shortest and longest five minutes of Marco’s life. It would be fine, he tried to assure himself. If he didn’t do well, he could retake the exam. He’d studied as much as he could. He knew the material. It was going to be fine. 

“Hey.”

Marco snapped out of his thought spiral, looking over to Jean as they arrived at his car. 

Jean reached out, taking Marco’s coffee cup and setting it on top of Marco’s car before taking his hands into his own, looking at him seriously. 

“You got this,” Jean urged, squeezing the other’s hands. 

Marco nodded with uncertainty. “Y-yeah.” 

Jean shook his head, reaching to cup Marco’s face in his hands with a squeeze. “No. You  _ got _ this. Period. Fact. You have got this. You’re gonna kill it. I’ve quizzed you backwards and forwards and you’ve practice-tested yourself into oblivion. You  _ know _ this stuff. You’re gonna be fine.” 

Tension rattled out of Marco’s chest on a sigh at that reassurance. Jean  _ really _ believed in him. Genuinely. 

Marco swallowed hard, giving a nod in return. “Y-yeah. Okay. Yeah. It’s gonna be fine.” 

Jean considered Marco for a moment before nodding, leaning up and forward to plant a kiss on Marco’s forehead. “Good boy.” 

Marco froze. 

Jean froze as well as he pulled back, yanking his hands away from Marco’s cheeks as if he’d been burned. “I— I—” 

“You j—” 

Marco’s backup alarm went off from his pocket, making both of them jump as Marco scrambled for his phone to turn off the noise. 

“Y-you should go,” Jean insisted. 

“…Yeah. Yeah. I should… I’m gonna…” Marco nodded, fumbling for his keys and opening his door. “I’ll see you later?” 

Jean had just  _ kissed _ his forehead. 

Jean  _ kissed _ his forehead. 

Jean  **_kissed_ ** him. 

“Y-yeah. Of course. I’ll be here. W-well, not  _ here _ , but you know what I—” 

“Mhmm. Yeah. I… I’ll see you,” Marco nodded. 

“Yeah,” Jean nodded, taking a few steps back and turning away before pausing. “Oh… and Marco?” 

“Yeah…?” 

“…Good luck.” Jean offered a grin, shaky around the edges. With a final wave, he turned and was gone. 

Marco let out a breath, nodding before grabbing his cup and getting into the car. 

Jean kissed his forehead. 

What did that even  _ mean? _

Marco shook his head quickly. 

“Get it together, Marco. You can ask him yourself after you pass this test,” Marco muttered to himself, taking a sip of his coffee to clear his thoughts before starting the car. 

Jean believed in him. 

Jean had been there for him. 

Jean had seen how hard he worked. 

If Jean thought he could do this, then maybe… just maybe he really could. 

And if he could get through this test without passing out or vomiting, then maybe he could find the courage to ask Jean exactly what that kiss meant, forehead or not. 

###

Fucking  _ fuck _ , Jean had really screwed up this time. 

He had  _ kissed _ Marco. Okay, alright, granted, it was just on the forehead, but it was still  _ a kiss _ , totally uninvited, totally unprompted, totally impulsive, totally  _ stupid. _

Christ. 

Here he’d gone and tried to give Marco a good start to his day, an easy and stress-free start, to give him the best advantage that he could going into the test, and instead he had probably just messed  _ everything _ up for him. Some friend Jean was. Marco was probably never going to talk to him again after this. Or, at the very least, everything was going to be awkward between them now. 

Not to mention the fact that Jean now had  _ nine hours _ to kill before Marco would even get back to the dorms so they could talk about whatever  _ that _ was and what the fallout of Jean’s impulse would be between them. He could only hope that Marco actually  _ wanted _ to talk about it. 

Trying his best to distract himself, Jean threw himself into his projects, moving from one project to another, throwing himself into this thing and that. Paint, charcoal, canvas, paper, Jean cursed not having any Thursday classes this semester to distract himself with. He set his phone to the side, knowing he would only obsess over the clock for the next however many hours if he didn’t. 

Hours later, a knock at his door startled Jean from the brush strokes he was applying to a canvas. 

“Fuck off, Eren, I’m busy,” Jean called out.

“…Jean?” a voice that was very much  _ not _ Eren called back through the door. “Um… Eren let me in. You weren’t answering your phone.” 

Jean flailed, nearly sending the cup of rinse water skittering across the room. “M-marco?” 

He checked his phone. Shit, was it almost four o’clock already? Three missed calls and four texts. 

Running a hopefully not too-painted hand through his hair and trying in vain to smooth out his clothes, Jean stepped over to the door. He could feel his heart jackhammering its hummingbird pace against his ribcage as the knob turned under his hand. 

“H-hey! You finished your test?” 

Marco let out a small, awkward laugh. “Yeah. I survived it… Somehow. I… I think I did okay?” 

Jean grinned, offering a thumbs-up. “I told you. I’m sure you did better than just okay.” 

“I hope so,” Marco agreed. “It um… I wanted to say thanks? I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Jean blinked. Was that an actual thank you thanks or an ‘our friendship is over’ thanks? Oh god. “Oh come on, I barely did anything. I just helped you quiz yourself here and there.” 

Marco shook his head. “No, I mean it. The whole time I was in there… It was like having you there with me. Anytime I got too nervous, I just thought about you there with me when I was studying and what you were working on and it… just all fit together then. It helped me calm down and remember a lot more than I could have otherwise.” 

“O-oh…” Jean offered quietly. 

God, what could he even say to that? 

“Um… you’re welcome?” Jean gave a small laugh. “You always know how to leave me without words, Marco…” 

Marco let out a small laugh of his own. “I guess that’s only fair… You left me without words this morning with your um…” 

Jean bit his lip. “Y-yeah… I… I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what came over me. I just—” 

“—Don’t?” Marco interrupted, continuing on when Jean looked at him with what he was sure was a completely puzzled expression. “Don’t be sorry, I mean. It um… It wasn’t a bad thing? It… was kind of like my good luck charm.” 

“Your… good luck charm?” Jean asked. 

Wait, Marco wasn’t mad? 

“Well… yeah…” Marco bit his lip, fidgeting slightly. “You know… kind of like… a kiss for good luck?” 

“O-oh…” Jean nodded. 

Was he dreaming? Was this even happening? Jean couldn’t help pinching himself slightly. No, this was happening. This was real. Marco wasn’t mad. 

“So… you’re not mad I kissed you?” 

Marco blinked, letting out a bewildered laugh. “Why would I be mad?” 

“B-because I kissed you?” Jean blurted out. 

“You kissed my  _ forehead _ , Jean…” Marco noted. “ _ This _ is an  _ actual  _ kiss.”

Quicker than Jean’s overloaded mental gears could turn, Marco’s lips were on his. 

Marco’s lips. 

Marco was  _ kissing _ him. 

Jean was kissing him  _ back. _

Jean melted into the kiss, unable to even  _ try _ to hold himself back as his fingertips tangled in Marco’s shirt by his hips. 

By the time they broke apart, Jean was breathless, lips kiss-swollen and pressed into a bewildered grin. 

“You  _ kissed _ me…” Jean mused, letting out a quiet, mystified laugh. 

“I did…” Marco confirmed, voice just as quiet. “Was… that okay?” 

“ _ Yeah, _ ” Jean breathed, tugging lightly at the fabric tangled between his fingers. “Totally okay. More than okay. Great, actually.” 

“Yeah…? Good. That’s… That’s good,” Marco agreed, falling silent as they both processed what this  _ meant _ . 

The wordless pause between them was broken a moment later by the sound of Jean’s stomach growling loudly. 

Fucking hell. 

Jean’s cheeks burned as Marco looked down between them at Jean’s stomach, brows shooting up. 

“I uh… got caught up in work and haven’t eaten since breakfast?” Jean offered sheepishly. 

“Oh…” Marco nodded. “Well… you got us breakfast so…” He shrugged slightly. “I could take us for a late lunch? Or… early dinner? I’m  _ starving _ after that test. I barely ate on my breaks, I was too nervous.” 

Jean blinked before scoffing. “No way. If anything, I’m taking  _ you _ out to congratulate you on finishing your test.” 

“So… Is this what our first fight as a couple is going to be?” Marco teased. “Arguing over who’s going to take who out to eat?” 

Jean’s eyes widened as heat crept onto his cheeks. Couple. Swatting at Marco’s arm, he rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Go wait out there, smartypants. I have to put on clothes that aren’t covered in paint.” 

Marco grinned, stealing another, more brief kiss before leaving Jean alone in his room. “Don’t take too long.” 

A _couple_. 

Jean could deal with that. 

**Author's Note:**

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